


The Battle for the Bed

by Anonymous



Category: Bruno and Boots (Movies), Macdonald Hall - Gordon Korman
Genre: Boys Kissing, Curtain Fic, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-18 01:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16985238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There was something different about the room. Boots couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something missing? Had Bruno put a new poster on the wall over his bed?Ah, that was it.“Bruno,” Boots said, “where is my bed?”





	The Battle for the Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum/gifts).



> Thank you for a delightful prompt! This was a great deal of fun to write.
> 
> See endnotes for content notes re: character age and sexual activity.

There was something different about the room. Boots couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something missing? Had Bruno put a new poster on the wall over his bed?

Ah, that was it.

“Bruno,” Boots said, “where is my bed?”

“I sold it,” Bruno said, sitting on his own bed and kicking off his shoes as he started unbuttoning his shirt. One shoe went under the desk. The other landed upside down on a heap of books, magazines, clothing, and knickknacks, threatening to start a landslide. Similar piles of clutter occupied the space where Boots’s bed had been, only this morning, and now was not.

“What do you mean you _sold_ it?” Boots said incredulously. “It doesn’t belong to you! It’s the property of Macdonald Hall!”

“And Macdonald Hall will get the money, won’t it? So what’s the problem?” Bruno flung his shirt and undershirt in the vague direction of his laundry bag. They missed by several feet and ended up draped over someone’s battered suitcase and a lamp Boots recognized from Dr. Leroy's office. 

Boots retrieved the shirts and put them in the bag before Bruno could decide his sweaty clothing might fetch a few pennies. “The problem,” he said, “is that that was _my bed_.”

“You just said it was Macdonald Hall’s bed.”

There was nowhere to sit, so Boots stood on his left foot to pull off his right shoe, briefly enjoying a fantasy of flinging it at Bruno’s head. “Who did you sell it to? Who would even want it?” The beds at Macdonald Hall were perfectly serviceable, but not exactly hotel quality.

“You can sit on my bed if you want,” Bruno said generously.

“It’s our bed now,” Boots said, sitting down to take off his other shoe. Their combined weight compressed the thin mattress even thinner. “I need somewhere to sleep, and this is the only option in the room. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Sleep in the chair,” Bruno said, nodding to the unpadded wooden desk chair. It was barely visible under a mound of—

“Are those dresses? Where did you get dresses?”

“Costume department.”

“Oh.”

“And my private collection.” Bruno looked sadly at the pile of frocks. “I’ll miss the green sleeveless one. It was perfect for summer. But no sacrifice is too great for Macdonald Hall.”

“My bed is too great a sacrifice!” Boots exclaimed. “And even if I could dig the chair out before morning, there’s no way I’d sleep a wink on that thing. I also note that you did not sacrifice _your_ bed.” He gave Bruno a hard look.

Bruno nonchalantly pulled off his socks, then stood up and shucked his pants. “Look, O’Neal. Do you want a pool or not?”

“Sure I do. But what good will it do me if I’m too sore and tired to swim in it? So I’m sleeping in this bed now, and you can either share it with me or find another room.” Boots tossed his own shirt and undershirt at the laundry bag and sprawled on the bed to emphasize his point. 

“Hey,” Bruno protested, “quit hogging my bed.”

“ _Our_ bed,” Boots said, stretching until his fingers touched the wall. 

Bruno tried to push Boots out of the bed. Boots didn’t budge. Bruno tried pulling on his arm and leg instead. Boots yawned. “What a nice comfortable bed we have,” he said. He didn’t usually care one way or another about being taller and stronger than Bruno, but it had some advantages. 

“You still need to get up and brush your teeth,” Bruno said.

“So do you,” Boots said. “And I’m faster.”

“Oh yeah?”

The occupants of Dormitory 3 were shortly treated to the unusual sight of Boots O’Neal, shoeless and shirtless, and Bruno Walton, wearing only a pair of bright yellow boxers, pelting down the hall to the bathroom. A few minutes later they raced back to their room, Boots slightly in the lead, trailing the scent of Pepsodent.

David Gould peeked out of room 302. “Is it safe?” he asked.

“I usually wait ten seconds just to be sure,” advised Robby O’Toole, who was doing the same from room 303.

They counted to ten, watching the door of room 306. It remained closed. From behind it came the sound of furious argument.

“I think we’re clear,” Robby said. “But let’s hurry.”

Mr. Fudge entered the dorm to see most of the boys crowded around the bathroom’s three sinks, washing and brushing like mad while nervously glancing down the hall. “What on earth,” he said.

“Bruno and Boots,” David mumbled around a mouthful of foam.

Mr. Fudge nodded. No further explanation was needed. “Well,” he said, “I’m glad to see you’re all so concerned with your hygiene.”

The boys ignored him, intent on getting back to their rooms before anything else could happen.

Unaware of the consternation they had caused, Bruno and Boots were engaged in a battle for the bed. Boots had dived under the blanket still half-dressed, and was lying on his back trying to wriggle out of his pants without ceding an inch of mattress. While he was tangled in his clothes, Bruno resorted to tickling Boots’s armpits, which Boots howled was dirty pool. This rapidly turned into all-out wrestling, with the inevitable result that Bruno wound up face down on the bed with Boots straddling him triumphantly, holding Bruno’s arms behind his back.

“What did you _think_ would happen?” Boots said.

“I can sleep just fine like this,” Bruno said, his words slightly muffled by the pillow. “It’s not going to be very comfortable for you, though.”

Boots considered their relative positions. “All right,” he said. “You have a point.”

“Yep,” Bruno said.

“I do need to lie down to sleep.”

“Humans generally do.”

Boots gently tucked Bruno’s arms by his sides and lay down on top of him. “This works,” he said. “You’re soft.”

“You’re not!” Bruno said, elbowing him in his well-defined abs. Boots grunted. “And you’re heavy!”

Boots rested all his weight on Bruno, put his mouth right next to Bruno’s ear, and snored loudly.

Bruno turned his head and kissed Boots full on the lips.

“That is also dirty pool,” Boots said accusingly.

“Sure is,” Bruno said, wriggling under him. He could feel Boots’s hard-on against his butt. “And it’s very effective.”

Boots kissed the side of Bruno’s neck. Bruno whimpered and dug his toes into the mattress. “I think you’re forgetting which one of us still has the upper hand here,” Boots observed.

“I have... definitely not... forgotten,” Bruno gasped as Boots started nibbling on his ear. “All part... of my brilliant... plan.”

They heard Mr. Fudge’s heavy footsteps outside, and then a knock on their door. Boots practically levitated out of the bed and grabbed the nearest object to hide the damp spot on his boxers. “Come in,” he squeaked.

Mr. Fudge stuck his head in. “Are you in bed already, Walton? Amazing. Bedtime for you too, O’Neal. Lights ou—is that a dress?”

Boots looked down at the bundle of fluffy purple fabric he was clutching with both hands. “Yes, sir.”

“Where did—no, don’t tell me, I’m sure I don’t want to know. Lights out, boys.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Fudge,” Bruno said angelically from the bed. Mr. Fudge shook his head and closed the door.

“ ‘Boys,’ ” Boots grumbled. “What happened to all the Fish's lectures about being upstanding young men?”

“You sounded about twelve,” Bruno giggled. “ ‘Come in!’ Hee hee hee.”

Boots flung the dress at him and turned out the light. “There had better be room for me in that bed in three seconds,” he threatened. “Three... two...”

Some time later, Boots spooned up behind Bruno, almost asleep. Suddenly he sat up. “But who did you sell my bed _to_?” he demanded.

Bruno’s snoring was his only answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Content note: This story contains two teen boys kissing and having full-body intimate contact with underwear on, with the implication of further sexual activity (not shown). There is one mention of an erection.
> 
> The legal age of consent in Canada at the time the books were written was 14; at the time the movies were made, it was 16, with a close-in-age exception for younger teens. Bruno and Boots's ages aren't stated in the book version of _Go Jump in the Pool!_ , in which this fic is set. In the movie version they're in grade nine (age 14–15, unless one or both of them was held back a year... which is not out of the question given their fondness for shenanigans). They are undoubtedly breaking school rules, but not the law. Just in case anyone was concerned.
> 
> Thanks to ArisTGD for the cheerleading and phnelt for the beta!


End file.
